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How to Wreck a GhostTrain
•Chapter One: Stateside in Post-America
I guess this would be a good place to start.
Cody Cleen and the infamous Wolfpussy, has just arrived back stateside from Europe. They all look terribly exhausted, except for Cleen himself. He seems uncanny in a sense, like he's aware that death is lurking around the corner. In his hand a package of Marlboro Reds, and about a half a fifth of Jack Danials. He's on a mission. A date with the Devil is set for tonight, and the smell of grass never exits his side. As he steps into my studio door, he asks, "Ever seen a man wreck a train in your face?"
"Didn't think so, Fucker."
•Chapter Two: "I want to go Insane."
Tired... of this shit.
Haven't slept in weeks. This dead time back in America, at my shithole trailer, is really fucking with my pride, worth to self, hard-dick syndrome, & pussy pulling power.
I guess I'll put on some pants and stumble on over to the Five and Dime, get a pack of Cigs, and see if Scarlett Rose is closing tonight, maybe fuck the shit out of her big ass titties later, yeah, Fuckin' A.
Something feels different, kinda strange. Like the first time you realized Bin Laden didn't kill the Twin Towers, our own guys did. Just Bizarrely different.
I feel my eyes get heavy. Maybe I died, or passed out smoking weed again, but then I see I'm floating off, into the cosmos, the unknown, or lesser known.
How the fuck did this happen?
An earthquake or Turbulence takes control of my Mind, a bright white flash, some shaking, U2 rattle and hum on the turntable, we are under the milky way, tonight, then I see a tree,
And my dope man Joshua.
Just in time.
I'm still awake in 3rd world America.
•Chapter Three: Mutiny is on the Rise
I'll die but only if you kill me first.
I want you too.
Cheap Thrills and Jack Danials is all that I got left, so let's Fuckin' get it on. However
I'm ready to leave again, back on tour, with the boys. But I like being with you too, shootin' meth, snorting heroin, and fucking.
That's about the just of it. Spend my hard earned, well deserved cash, on seedy motels, shitty dope, and with no rock n' roll to listen to, none. Guitar is in the car, the car she drives while I'm gone. Fuck this.
"Can you go get my guitar, please."
" Your Guitar??"
" Yes, Guitar, Magnalina."
" so you want me to go and get YOUR
whore guitar all the way down on
Esplanade' at the Checkpoint...
Hope I don't get another ticket."
" It's ok. I'll go myself.
•Chapter Four: The Drunk Engine
It's 5:15am.
All nighters haven't stopped since I can remember.
The sounds and flashing lights and weird, weirder people tend to make their way into or around my life in general.
Except the Natives. They keep their distance.
Because they've been here before, with me.
Drinking out of hand with some of the locals, the Drunk Engines, I reference them as. They are my friends, my family, these soberphobic & endless nights where I barely trust myself to make a good decision.
The Drunk Engines will sign or veto an
Executive Order as it requires.
I think I'm running on nothing
except for the right team.
you are getting heavy.
in your mind.
you will.
you.
A short dance with destiny.
before breakfast.
and
a
hangover.
Discloser:
((I am not racist in any way, I hate everyone equally))
• Chapter Five: Waking up outside a junkyard
I'm not exactly sure for how long or where I was. My head hurt and my fingers were bloody. Feels like the Devil been chewin' on my fingernails again.
I could smell smoke, and see it in the distance, and then it hit me...
I was probably dead.
I can hear angels,
screaming and hurling words of
wickedness
lust
and
despair.
I found an old 2x4, and used it as a crutch.
pulled a flask of Jack Danials from my jacket, Perfecto... the other crutch.
as I look for an exit (the entrance),
I try to remember,
but draw nothing but
blank lines and short straws.
I feel like I got beat up by a shitload of cheerleaders, who knows,
maybe I did.
That's not what's important right now,
getting home is.
where is home?
Don't care.
I Just gotta get out of here.
I'm all out of my medicine.
My mind is computing in single block mode.
beep.
Cocaine and Coffee.
beep.
Jack Danials and Methadone... beep.
and,
and...
and down here with the rest of us,
it's
me.
•Chapter Six:
Operation:
angelheist
the last thing I remember is...
I was driving Ses' Dad in good ol Gena La. to buy drugs for the night, so I think, about two miles he said "Turn into this Bank." The afternoon rain didn't help this old Dodge pickup was on its last leg, and I've been snorting Valium and Adderall all fucking day. Don't worry I've done this before.
I just looked at him.
"Don't leave me here."
I said, "Dont get caught."
"Ok."
He left me there, dying inside, its the longest wait I've ever sat there thru.
and as fast as it started,
here he comes getting backed out the bank by old folks, and fake cops.
I just wait.
and when he finally touched the vintage door handle, I blow that joint like a well known Whore.
We got away, but now he had a gun, and shooting out with the police
they crashed off highway 10 and we headed back to Ferriday.
We scored the dope we originally left for.
He gave me some drugs and I passed out behind the wheel.
I have no account after I took the drugs. The next morning I woke with all 4 of them staring at me.
"thought youz dead." I heard.
"I ain't fucking dead you idiot.
What the Fuck happened?"
I yelled.
I heard the story, got high, and we headed back to
New Orleans,
for Shrimp and Grits.
•Chapter Seven: Broken Arrow
How can I get there? I guess I could gotcha ride. That could take forever. Steal a car?
Ill probably wind up in a jailhouse.
I should just say fuck it and start drinking my ass off. I could ask Ses's Dad, but no telling what kind of goddamned misadventures we will end up in. Big Business, a handicap parking tag, blackdust, a brick of Meth,
30 pack of Old Milwaukee, a Colt .45, more crack, a stolen car with out-of-state plates, and a cops uniform that belongs to someone he knows. a no good pitbull, and some stolen diesel fuel. So with no other choice...
I give him a call. I wish I had a xanax or two.
He gets there fashionably late, drunk as fuck,
pissed off a Nan, his wife. And screaming about some shit that so and so owes him, and tried to talk me into driving the car, so he could kill this dude that is at work with this big chainsaw he keeps in the trunk.
Before I said yes, and wound up in prison.
I called my girl, told her the whole situation I had got myself in, and with rapid fury, she was there, to get me, we smoked a couple joints and she hightails us back to Broken Arrow...
Oklahoma.
•Chapter Eight:
a sick boy & a stupid bitch
part 1
I've completely ran myself way too thin to even keep up with the time on the wall clock. At one point I swear it was running backwards. When I rolled over this afternoon from a broken slumber I thought it was Thursday the 3rd...
It's Tuesday the 7th.
Goddammit, what have I been on?
I wanted to cry but I was so dry my tears were only dusty salt. There she was, the only one I got, TaTa.
I know she loves me, I love her.
I speak to her in a broken Eastern European accent, to make her feel more "At Home" here in the shit hole of south, Ball Knob, Arkansas.
My old buddy Big Frank is putting up with our shenanigans for the next day or so. Or until we run out of dope and our heads are to big to believe.
Caught a lift with a trucker going that way, and offered to smoke a Doobie with him, that's about all I had to give, so we got loaded, and away we went.
You know what we was haulin' to Texarkana?
We was "Haulin' Ass."
•Chapter Nine:
Destination:
Nowhere
“Take the next exit, Bjorne.”
“oui”
I’m not sure where we’re going, but I know it’s gonna be nowhere fast. I think you’re in Belgium feels like we are in a race.
This fucking bullshit stinks and I’m hungry today than yesterday. Been here and rockstar status who don’t know what kind of shit goes on after the show. It’s a fucking madhouse Bartels.
If I can’t get back by the morning, I’ll stay out another night.
•Chapter 10
Hart Fortenbery
“I’ll trip you quicker than the rain, boy.”
•Chapter 11
The Wake
I woke up
Dying inside
Is this a vision?
or prophesied from beyond fuel.
I didn’t know they was gonna be so cool.
But somehow I wound up in this junkyard again.
I smell sulphuric shit.
I hear a bunch of dogs.
Hounds of Hell are on my Trail,
is playing loud on this spiritual mind radio.
And was I too slow?
Is time the illusion we expected?
Allow them to return.
We need the guidance,
we’ve been so wrong.
I allow myself to be hurt.
© Cody Cleen 2021
ROCK N' ROLL OVERDOSE Publications
I guess this would be a good place to start.
Cody Cleen and the infamous Wolfpussy, has just arrived back stateside from Europe. They all look terribly exhausted, except for Cleen himself. He seems uncanny in a sense, like he's aware that death is lurking around the corner. In his hand a package of Marlboro Reds, and about a half a fifth of Jack Danials. He's on a mission. A date with the Devil is set for tonight, and the smell of grass never exits his side. As he steps into my studio door, he asks, "Ever seen a man wreck a train in your face?"
"Didn't think so, Fucker."
•Chapter Two: "I want to go Insane."
Tired... of this shit.
Haven't slept in weeks. This dead time back in America, at my shithole trailer, is really fucking with my pride, worth to self, hard-dick syndrome, & pussy pulling power.
I guess I'll put on some pants and stumble on over to the Five and Dime, get a pack of Cigs, and see if Scarlett Rose is closing tonight, maybe fuck the shit out of her big ass titties later, yeah, Fuckin' A.
Something feels different, kinda strange. Like the first time you realized Bin Laden didn't kill the Twin Towers, our own guys did. Just Bizarrely different.
I feel my eyes get heavy. Maybe I died, or passed out smoking weed again, but then I see I'm floating off, into the cosmos, the unknown, or lesser known.
How the fuck did this happen?
An earthquake or Turbulence takes control of my Mind, a bright white flash, some shaking, U2 rattle and hum on the turntable, we are under the milky way, tonight, then I see a tree,
And my dope man Joshua.
Just in time.
I'm still awake in 3rd world America.
•Chapter Three: Mutiny is on the Rise
I'll die but only if you kill me first.
I want you too.
Cheap Thrills and Jack Danials is all that I got left, so let's Fuckin' get it on. However
I'm ready to leave again, back on tour, with the boys. But I like being with you too, shootin' meth, snorting heroin, and fucking.
That's about the just of it. Spend my hard earned, well deserved cash, on seedy motels, shitty dope, and with no rock n' roll to listen to, none. Guitar is in the car, the car she drives while I'm gone. Fuck this.
"Can you go get my guitar, please."
" Your Guitar??"
" Yes, Guitar, Magnalina."
" so you want me to go and get YOUR
whore guitar all the way down on
Esplanade' at the Checkpoint...
Hope I don't get another ticket."
" It's ok. I'll go myself.
•Chapter Four: The Drunk Engine
It's 5:15am.
All nighters haven't stopped since I can remember.
The sounds and flashing lights and weird, weirder people tend to make their way into or around my life in general.
Except the Natives. They keep their distance.
Because they've been here before, with me.
Drinking out of hand with some of the locals, the Drunk Engines, I reference them as. They are my friends, my family, these soberphobic & endless nights where I barely trust myself to make a good decision.
The Drunk Engines will sign or veto an
Executive Order as it requires.
I think I'm running on nothing
except for the right team.
you are getting heavy.
in your mind.
you will.
you.
A short dance with destiny.
before breakfast.
and
a
hangover.
Discloser:
((I am not racist in any way, I hate everyone equally))
• Chapter Five: Waking up outside a junkyard
I'm not exactly sure for how long or where I was. My head hurt and my fingers were bloody. Feels like the Devil been chewin' on my fingernails again.
I could smell smoke, and see it in the distance, and then it hit me...
I was probably dead.
I can hear angels,
screaming and hurling words of
wickedness
lust
and
despair.
I found an old 2x4, and used it as a crutch.
pulled a flask of Jack Danials from my jacket, Perfecto... the other crutch.
as I look for an exit (the entrance),
I try to remember,
but draw nothing but
blank lines and short straws.
I feel like I got beat up by a shitload of cheerleaders, who knows,
maybe I did.
That's not what's important right now,
getting home is.
where is home?
Don't care.
I Just gotta get out of here.
I'm all out of my medicine.
My mind is computing in single block mode.
beep.
Cocaine and Coffee.
beep.
Jack Danials and Methadone... beep.
and,
and...
and down here with the rest of us,
it's
me.
•Chapter Six:
Operation:
angelheist
the last thing I remember is...
I was driving Ses' Dad in good ol Gena La. to buy drugs for the night, so I think, about two miles he said "Turn into this Bank." The afternoon rain didn't help this old Dodge pickup was on its last leg, and I've been snorting Valium and Adderall all fucking day. Don't worry I've done this before.
I just looked at him.
"Don't leave me here."
I said, "Dont get caught."
"Ok."
He left me there, dying inside, its the longest wait I've ever sat there thru.
and as fast as it started,
here he comes getting backed out the bank by old folks, and fake cops.
I just wait.
and when he finally touched the vintage door handle, I blow that joint like a well known Whore.
We got away, but now he had a gun, and shooting out with the police
they crashed off highway 10 and we headed back to Ferriday.
We scored the dope we originally left for.
He gave me some drugs and I passed out behind the wheel.
I have no account after I took the drugs. The next morning I woke with all 4 of them staring at me.
"thought youz dead." I heard.
"I ain't fucking dead you idiot.
What the Fuck happened?"
I yelled.
I heard the story, got high, and we headed back to
New Orleans,
for Shrimp and Grits.
•Chapter Seven: Broken Arrow
How can I get there? I guess I could gotcha ride. That could take forever. Steal a car?
Ill probably wind up in a jailhouse.
I should just say fuck it and start drinking my ass off. I could ask Ses's Dad, but no telling what kind of goddamned misadventures we will end up in. Big Business, a handicap parking tag, blackdust, a brick of Meth,
30 pack of Old Milwaukee, a Colt .45, more crack, a stolen car with out-of-state plates, and a cops uniform that belongs to someone he knows. a no good pitbull, and some stolen diesel fuel. So with no other choice...
I give him a call. I wish I had a xanax or two.
He gets there fashionably late, drunk as fuck,
pissed off a Nan, his wife. And screaming about some shit that so and so owes him, and tried to talk me into driving the car, so he could kill this dude that is at work with this big chainsaw he keeps in the trunk.
Before I said yes, and wound up in prison.
I called my girl, told her the whole situation I had got myself in, and with rapid fury, she was there, to get me, we smoked a couple joints and she hightails us back to Broken Arrow...
Oklahoma.
•Chapter Eight:
a sick boy & a stupid bitch
part 1
I've completely ran myself way too thin to even keep up with the time on the wall clock. At one point I swear it was running backwards. When I rolled over this afternoon from a broken slumber I thought it was Thursday the 3rd...
It's Tuesday the 7th.
Goddammit, what have I been on?
I wanted to cry but I was so dry my tears were only dusty salt. There she was, the only one I got, TaTa.
I know she loves me, I love her.
I speak to her in a broken Eastern European accent, to make her feel more "At Home" here in the shit hole of south, Ball Knob, Arkansas.
My old buddy Big Frank is putting up with our shenanigans for the next day or so. Or until we run out of dope and our heads are to big to believe.
Caught a lift with a trucker going that way, and offered to smoke a Doobie with him, that's about all I had to give, so we got loaded, and away we went.
You know what we was haulin' to Texarkana?
We was "Haulin' Ass."
•Chapter Nine:
Destination:
Nowhere
“Take the next exit, Bjorne.”
“oui”
I’m not sure where we’re going, but I know it’s gonna be nowhere fast. I think you’re in Belgium feels like we are in a race.
This fucking bullshit stinks and I’m hungry today than yesterday. Been here and rockstar status who don’t know what kind of shit goes on after the show. It’s a fucking madhouse Bartels.
If I can’t get back by the morning, I’ll stay out another night.
•Chapter 10
Hart Fortenbery
“I’ll trip you quicker than the rain, boy.”
•Chapter 11
The Wake
I woke up
Dying inside
Is this a vision?
or prophesied from beyond fuel.
I didn’t know they was gonna be so cool.
But somehow I wound up in this junkyard again.
I smell sulphuric shit.
I hear a bunch of dogs.
Hounds of Hell are on my Trail,
is playing loud on this spiritual mind radio.
And was I too slow?
Is time the illusion we expected?
Allow them to return.
We need the guidance,
we’ve been so wrong.
I allow myself to be hurt.
© Cody Cleen 2021
ROCK N' ROLL OVERDOSE Publications
